


Stairway to Heaven.

by Arubi



Series: Holding on and Letting go. [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, Dark, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Moving On, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arubi/pseuds/Arubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The thing is that Derek just finds it really difficult to let people in… and when he let me in, for some reason I can't understand, and you know, we hit it off with each other, it made me feel special, being with him makes me feel special, wanted. Like it’s natural. Like I managed to fit in somewhere no one else can.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

 

 

[Playlist while Reading: An Anchor I can Hold Onto/Stairway To Heaven (Click Here) (Go to the link and select 'Play All'.)](http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/An+Anchor+I+Can+Hold+Onto/84830185)

 

* * *

 

It was the staring, Stiles thinks.

Yes, that was it. The way they looked at him as if he might break and lash out at them at any moment, like a ticking time bomb.

Or, maybe, it was how he and Scott joked and laughed together for short minutes before breaking into uncomfortable silence.

He changes his stance, shifts his weight a little and drops the luggages to rest onto the floor while he stretches and yawns. It's still five in the morning, he knows he's quite early, too, yet he didn't want to allow himself the time to back down from his decision. The weather is chilly and it almost reminds him of the previous year, when at this very moment he was lying down in a puddle of water, with Klaus on top of him. 

Stiles wonders if he was already under his thrall by then, and then shakes his head a little, it's a habit of his to think too much in the morning.

He exhales and sees the white fog rise in-front of him, he's glad it isn't raining, it would have made everything way harder. Stiles runs his hand through his grown hair - which spiked in different directions and made him look, as Lydia once concluded; _steamy -_ and then looks down and arranges his black coat, makes sure it is tight around him to provide some more warmth. 

He didn't leave them out of resentment or hatred, he left them because he knew it was the best thing to do, he knew they were aware of this too; that he, didn't belong with them anymore. After everything that happened with Klaus he hoped everything would return to normal again, but he was once again too positive. Derek was great, he was perfect, maybe a little too overprotective and territorial, but hey, when you have Derek as your boyfriend or rather, mate, you really find that those two small things are only insignificant issues. It was just that he couldn't stand being around them without the glancing and the fake jokes everyone forcefully laughed at and smiles and the trying way too hard - he went from one relationship - or whatever it was - to another too quickly, he didn't have time to just adapt and organise things and fix himself and breathe. That's what he wrote in the letter anyway. 

Stiles wanted to breathe, breathing was good. Excellent. 

He looks down and smiles at the irony, finally understanding why Jackson had left after they saved him from being the Kanima, why he had wanted to get away.

Almost an hour later he's on the plane; three seats short of the first, looking out of the window and down to Beacon Hills as it slowly faded away beneath heavy grey clouds, trees and mountains.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

He made sure to leave the pack the protection it needed, creating wards which kept out any supernatural entity his magic didn't recognize out of the hale territory – which was half of Beacon Hills. They were safe, of that, he is certain. Stiles knows Derek is going to feel his absence more than anyone, he too can feel that aching weight settling on his chest and gaining mass as he distanced himself from Derek more and more. He also knows it has nothing to do with being Derek’s mate, but rather it is because he hasn't left Derek’s side in months.

Stiles had grown close to Derek, everything was a slow passionate burn, their relationship was like a long dark tunnel and they lit it candle by candle. He did have sex with Derek, but it wasn’t the day after Klaus died, when he was upstairs hyperventilating a little and wondering whether he should keep his pants on or not. No, that night they made out like teenagers re-united for the first time in years, which was silly, but mostly amazing.

They had slept there, cushioned and curled into each other on Derek’s bed and only woke up to the sounds of the sheriff yelling out of the house and swearing to get in and flay Derek alive. In the subsequent weeks, they simply went out together, watched movies and talked and talked – Stiles did most of the talking, but Derek was more than happy to listen. When Derek, one night, when Stiles finished telling him about how he and his mother used to hide his Father’s favourite music collection just to see the Sheriff fume, started talking about what he used to do with Blake (his older brother) to Laura when they were young, Stiles guffawed, thrown his head back and laughed and barely noticed that Derek had opened up to him. Derek didn’t realise that too, he just smirked proudly and continued with his tales of how he and Blake were always competing on who got to infuriate Laura the most, and then, by mistake he mentioned how Laura used to tease him about his obsession with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Doctor Who, to which Stiles hugged him and commended his awesome life choices.

Stiles also learned how Derek was a little of a geek in his early teens, but on the other hand was captain of the school’s lacrosse and swimming team (to which Stiles had snorted and called him Jackson, as if that were a grave insult.) Derek never just sat down and started telling Stiles about himself, no, the times when he shared his own stories were when involuntarily he added his own tales after listening and laughing to Stiles’ ones about his parents, older cousin Miguel and Scott.

Sometimes, when they both lied down on patches of leaves in the woods, heads resting on logs and feet shuffling through detritus and they both grew tired of telling stories and snickering, Derek would wrap an arm around Stiles and bury his nose in his hair and inhale like Stiles was the most precious thing in his world.

“We will be landing within five minutes.” The sharp voice of the hostess startles Stiles out of his light sleep, there’s a stupid smile on his face and he feels disorientated, he fumbles a little and fidgets until settling down.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s barely been a week since Stiles arrived in Jackson Hole. Wyo, the place is unbelievably pretty, and the winter casts an easy, homey atmosphere to it that makes every visitor want to cuddle up on a sofa and watch movies. The place he is staying belonged to his uncle, who lived in the same town but closer to the centre.

The apartment is on the very border, partly secluded from the rest of the village, there is a large field of snow in-front of it that leads to the beginning of the woods, the trees are green and tall and their leaves have been weighed down by the hail and their tops are covered in white. Stiles visited his dad’s brother Uncle Jeremy on the first two days, allowing him to reminiscence about the past and share stuff with his cousin Miguel and his older sister Katie. Miguel, already visited him once under the excuse of bring him some supplies, he offered Stiles to call him had he needed anything, which was nice. Miguel was twenty four, blond, heavily built, bisexual and used to hit on Stiles when he was little, which to be fair was when they were six, but still. Stiles kind of flushes and fidgets very easily around him, which doesn’t help the awkwardness at all. Anyways.

Stiles finds out that life is indeed calm and sloshy in the small town of Jackson Hole (and seriously, what’s up with that name, he may or may not have referenced it with another Jackson a couple of times), everything is easy, there is ample entertainment at evening, several open clubs at night and the forest is free for people to hike in, as is regarded safe (to which Stiles finds surprisingly astonishing.) It’s eight in the morning and he’s standing in-front of the apartment, sitting on a wooden rocking chair and sipping juice and eating toasted bread, the weather remains chilly but the sun has come out and soared quickly, it’s light casting a soothing sheet of warmth against his otherwise reddened from cold cheeks. Stiles knows Miguel is on his way, and he is honestly anticipating his cousin’s arrival, as it is, while they aren’t as close as they used to be when younger, Stiles doesn’t mind admitting that he enjoys his company.

He can already hear the railing noise of Miguel’s car in the distance, the turbulent hissing sound of the old red Ford’s machine as it bumps over snow piled fractures in the ground.

Half an hour later they are in the second floor, in Stiles’ bedroom, Miguel is slouched in his bed and observing meticulously a photograph Stiles showed him of his friends.

“They seem nice. Scott sure has grown up all beefy, I haven’t seen him in years!” Miguel wonders aloud before glancing at Stiles. “I haven’t seen any of you in years, to be honest.”

“Things got a little complicated.” Stiles shrugs, he knows he’s lying by severe omission right now, but there’s no way in hell any of this being explained to his cousin will be a good option.

“Uncle John told me you were going through some rough time… He mentioned a guy. Actually two.” And there is it, Stiles was just waiting for Miguel to finally drop the shoe, they have been tip toeing each other about the subject since he had arrived.

“Yeah.” He gives out a sheepish smile.

“You didn’t tell me you liked boys.” Miguel’s tone is almost a whine, yet it is evidently half pleased.

“As if you didn’t know I swing both ways.” Stiles narrows his eyes on the blond, earning a guilty smile in return,

“Okay. Maybe I suspected, but really you don’t tell your cousin about this stuff? You know I’m the King of relationships. Any kind.” Miguel adds the ‘any kind;’ later, and Stiles snorts.

“You’re a whore, you don’t do relationships.” He deadpans.

“Okay that is not-, okay it is, but the fact is that I still am the perfect guy for relationship advice,” Stiles’ eyes narrow, suspicious and heavy with disbelief.

“Come on, just tell me what happened. You’re out here aren’t you? Let the Miguel in.”

A shiver runs down Stiles’ spine and their eyes both glint as they recognize how _that_ sounded. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds before erupting into a fit of giggles.

“I need to be severely drunk to have this conversation.”

“And since Miguel is a god, clearly, he brought Vodka, Sambuca and this god awful cheap wine we won’t touch.”

Twenty minutes later they are both lying lazily on the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it is showing them colourful pictures.

“So you had two guys. _Two_. You didn’t even tell me you had _two_ guys.”

“Well first it was Derek, you know me and crushing.”

“Yes, you and that concept are wed.”

“Bastard. Anyways. Well then this guy came and I took the chance, cause you know, I’m all for questionable life choices.”

“And that ended pretty badly.” Miguel tries to conclude from what he already knows.

“He died.”

Miguel stares at him for a couple of seconds.

“I’m joking. I’m joking.” Stiles assures him, and god the irony of the situation only makes him giggle more.

“And then the Derek guy told you he wanted you and he was just afraid… or whatever.” Miguel continuous carefully, trying to see if he’s on Stiles’ train of thought, which is usually impossible unless they’re both close to being wasted. “And you reconciled with your friends… so what’s the problem?” Miguel fails to pronounce reconciled correctly, but continuous anyways, oblivious to his own slurring – he feels as if his mouth is several inches away from him and speaking from an alien place.

“Yes. Yes. I don’t know.” He deflates a little, sighs - defeated. “It’s just, I’m not the same person anymore, what happened with Klaus affected me more than I care to admit. Worse, now I look at them and sometimes I hate them a little.”

Miguel gestures him to continue.

 “I don’t want to be with them just because of what happened with Klaus, I don’t want anything to be the result of what happened with Klaus. And their friendship with me, right now, is only because I’m ‘Klaus’ broken toy’. I want to move on from all that, I want to go to college and do whatever I want and be _Stiles_ , depending on people is not something I will do again. I’m not some broken toy they need to repair and pat themselves on their backs for having fixed.

Miguel nods, brows a little higher than normal, trying to understand everything from the bits and pieces.

“I really tried to make it work, to be happy and let everything slide as if nothing ever happened, like everything is still all-right with them, but something did happen, and trying to ignore it was stupid of me. I have changed, I had to. Now I want a clean slate.”

“What about Derek? Didn’t you two get together because of what happened with Klaus too?” Miguel’s expression is meticulous, studying Stiles.

“Yes! But before Klaus we were getting closer, not drifting apart. I would have managed to move on from Scott and the others,” Miguel raises his eyebrows.

Stiles decidedly ignores that and continues. “You see, Derek spent the first two years slamming me against walls, and not in the good way.” Stiles points out, Miguel looks aghast, and then Stiles smirks as he recalls that the pinning against the walls weren’t such _bad_ experiences.

“The thing is that Derek just finds it really difficult to let people in… and when he let me in, for some reason I can't understand, and you know, we hit it off with each other, it made me feel special, being with him makes me feel special, wanted. Like it’s natural. Like I managed to fit in somewhere no one else can.”

“We were moving slow, and I didn’t even think he liked me. But I was okay with that, I was okay with learning and discovering it slowly. I liked the fact that trusting each other was a long journey, I liked the idea that maybe turning what we had into something more was going to be an even longer thing. I wanted that, I found that beautiful. Then everything changed and we mated and we had to just finish up everything that we were building slowly.” His tone slurs into a whisper.

He takes a deep breath, recollecting his thoughts. “I want it to be just natural. I don’t want anything that I have to be influenced by Klaus or whatever happened. If Klaus didn’t happen me and Derek would have had more time, things wouldn’t have skipped so fast, they wouldn’t have been sky rocketed like that. I missed something big and I feel like I want to take a step back, I want to uncomplicated things and make them simple like they used to be.”

“…You have changed.” Miguel’s comment cuts him off afterwards, his face observing and pleased.

“Huh?”

“You just… changed, you used to be this guy who babbled way too much but never said anything he meant, god you were insupportably adorable. And now you’re all grown and you actually talk, like serious real Stiles talking with no babbling and all those extra layers.” Miguel shrugs, his vision contorting a little and his head swaying under the disorientation. “I like it. This independent badass thing makes me want to jump you.”

“Seriously Miguel? You’re suggesting _that_ when we are both drunk and sweaty and frustrated?”

“Totally.” They both giggle again, leaning on each other amiably.

They sigh, the half opened window let the chilly wind in and the fresh air filtered the stench of alcohol in the room. It isn’t large, just a bed with light brown sheets, a dark oak small wardrobe on one side and a large mirror dresser on the other with the window adjacent to it. There is a small TV Stiles hasn’t used yet in-front of the bed, he prefers to use the much bigger one in the living room while wrapped under sheets, cuddling cushions and watching movies lazily. Yet, the room is small but cosy – homey almost, there’s a strong smell of wood and pine and trees and it reminds him of his home.

“What about your guy… Is it anything serious?” Stiles asks, although he probably knows the answer.

“Actually, it kind of is.” He jerks up and stares at Miguel, willing him to continue.

“Stiles needs a vivid description of said man.” Stiles grins at him, internally happy he managed to sway the subject to an extent.

“I have pictures actually.” He unlocks his phone, showing Stiles an image of himself and his boyfriend; they are side hugging and grinning into the camera, eyes a little sparkly with inebriation, yet their expressions seem happy and content. The man is slender and tall, dark haired and blue eyes, he looks youthful and stunningly beautiful, his structure is slim yet the glint in his blue eyes and porcelain skin reminds him vividly of Klaus.

“His name is Colin.”

“Tall, dark and handsome. Typical you.” Miguel grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“We’ve been together for almost a year.” He adds.

Stiles’ eyes go wide and surprised. “Oh my god, congrats mate!” He hugs his cousin, affable and at ease. “Wow. I’m not the only one who has changed. You did change.”

“How did you know it was him?” Stiles asks later, when they’ve both fallen into a drowsy silence. “You know… the one.” He adds. He shifts his weight and lies on his side on the bed, facing Miguel.

“Well it’s different for everyone Stiles, but I think it’s the thinking.”

“The thinking?”

“Yes, the way your mind drifts to him every time someone talks about loved ones, every time you see two people together; it’s when he’s constantly on top of your mind. In one way or another, when you’re with someone else and you’re still thinking about him, it’s when he kisses you and the whole world goes dull and everything becomes sweet and fine, yet your mind releases this rush sensation into you and everything falls into place, when it’s not just the act that momentarily shuts your brain, it’s the after, it’s the person. It’s feeling every cell of your body jumping with energy and you almost start shaking with how intense it is.” It takes a moment for Stiles to register Miguel’s words, and then he nods.

“When I used to kiss Klaus, everything went dull and everything shut down. It was like turning everything that makes me _me_ off and just letting myself fall and forget. With Derek, everything clicked together, my brain was alive, I wasn’t emotionally stunted-”

“Everything exploded? Butterflies flew inside your heart and inside your belly wanting to get out and wrap themselves around him? You had this rush of pure delight that made you feel cheesy and made your lips curve up involuntarily, making you grin like an idiot?”

“Yes!” Stiles almost regrets saying it once he realized that he did, indeed, admitted that, admitted that Derek made him like a grinning idiot, that he had the inexplicable desire to grin and jump and dance around every time they kissed.

And then he realized what he wants, what he needs to do.

“By the way, since when did you become such a romantic exactly?”

“It’s one of my many talents.”

“Terrifying.”


	4. Chapter 4

It’s a week after and when Stiles sees Derek a couple of meters away from him, hands buried in his coat’s pockets and face foggy from exhaling in the snow. Stiles jerks his head up in surprise, gasps a little before swallowing, he knew it was a matter of time, he gave his location to Derek three days earlier when he called him to tell him that everything was all-right. Stiles has been scrubbing the snow off the pavement, stretching a little every time his back grew sore from the lifting of hail.

He had spent the last few days with Miguel, Katie and Colin – they were wonderful. He even got to talk and reminiscent a little with Katie, who was always busy with her job as an interior designer. If Stiles had to compare Katie with a wolf, she’d be an alpha, always having the answers and clarity. She also is very conniving, convincing him to be his would be in the future apartment designer.

Derek just stands there, still and lips thin and unsmiling, waiting for Stiles to make the first move, almost asking for permission for himself to walk to Stiles. Stiles smiles and treads to him instead, they embrace and Derek lowers his head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his hair and letting out a noise from the back of throat, reminiscent of a whine, a pleased shudder. Stiles can feel the way Derek relaxes, the way his whole body releases a shockwave of tension.

“I thought you weren’t going to call me, ever.” Derek says, and Stiles can hear exactly how that only appears to be a joke.

Derek kisses him again, a couple of pecks on his lips before pulling away.

*

After an hour Miguel, Colin and Katie arrive with expressions and varying levels of interest. Katie shamelessly looks Derek up and down and nods, pleased. Miguel shakes Derek’s hand firmly, it’s weird for Stiles, seeing the two men so close to each other. They looked alternating versions of perfection, both well built, tall and stupidly handsome. Derek with his black hair, green silver eyes and Miguel with his blonde hair and blue ones were examples of genetic by-products gone flawlessly.

“Stiles’ cousin, Miguel.” Miguel says, and Stiles suspects it’s because he thinks Derek might maim him if he doesn’t clear that out.

Derek then smiles, probably realizing that Miguel was not, indeed, any competition. Although he does sniff the air once or twice and furrows his eyebrows at Stiles, hurt.

When Stiles has had enough of the death gazing and Miguel gulping and inching towards Colin, he decides to do something.

“We did not sleep together, God, he’s my cousin.”

Derek flushes when Stiles is behind him, whispering huskily in his ear. “I did not think-“

“Save it, really, sourwolf, you looked positively close to biting his head off.”

Derek frowns and sighs.

“Besides, he’s with Colin-“

“Derek!” Katie approaches with two glasses of a strange liquid he suspects is poison towards them. Sometimes she reminds him of Lydia. Oh my god, he gasps and points at her. “You’re totally Lydia.”

Katie quivers an eyebrow and brushes it off. “That girl you had a crush with since-“

There’s Derek giving death stares again and Miguel snickering in the corner with Colin.

“Oh sorry.” She looks at Derek and then back to Stiles. “May I steal him for a while?”

“Why-“He begins.

“Perfect. Bye.” She takes Derek’s hand and Stiles is awed by her display of strength when she manages to drag him with her effortlessly. He also gasps suspiciously when he sees Derek flush.

“Well that was awkward.”  He slumps back into the sofa. They are in the living room, there’s some old TV crap going on none of them cares about, however it was a good distraction to fill the (very small) gaps in between his cousin’s (and even cousin’s boyfriend) questions.

Miguel and Colin sit beside him, he feels a little like the meat between a sandwiches.

“He looks… nice.” Miguel starts. “A little terrifying… but _nice_.”

Colin and Stiles glare at him in that ‘keep your pants on’ way of theirs that they developed.

“Oh come on you guys, it’s just healthy appreciation of a fellow human being-“

“He’s a little shy, I think.” Colin starts, sparing Miguel.

“You weren’t joking when you said he was made of muscle.” He then whispers to Stiles. Miguel’s expression clearly contorts, offended and stares at Colin, inquiring.

“When did you guys talk about this?” The hurt in his voice is painfully adorable.

They both grin and throw their heads back, laughing.

*

It’s eleven and everyone left, Stiles and Derek are lying on the ground, not too far from the apartment. They’re both wearing jeans and dark jackets, water from the snow underneath them had seeped in through their clothing a little, but they are comfortable lying into each other. The sky is cloudless and filled with stars. The moon is a slim crescent, shining a soothing silver. From here they can see the house barely underneath them, standing on a less elevated hill, clouded by a thick white fog, and the rest of the town – buildings a little misty, hidden underneath layers of orange and silver.

The trees, covering the rest of their vision spread out in infinite distance from where they stood, the cover of green slowly lifting upwards until it met the black sky. The leaves of the trees glistened a light green which shined and illuminated itself from one leaf to another.

“Your cousin is a handful.” Derek comments. “Katie threatened me in colourful ways.”

“Seriously? What did you talk about?”

“Nothing.”

Stiles shifts a little, not giving up on _knowing_. “I saw you blushing at her-“

“She just reminds me of Laura.” Derek states, and it throws Stiles back a little.

“I refuse to believe that your sister was just as genetically fortunate as you are.”

Derek smirks and looks down.

“Stiles, are you leaving – us?” Derek asks later, when silence fell and brought up the questions prolonged by both.

“No.”

“Then? …There’s something on your mind. I can tell.”

“It’s just that, we had this really beautiful thing happening between us before the Klaus thing happened, this thing where we tip toe around each other and slowly trust each other and what the hell, falling for each other. Maybe, if that’s how it was-“

“It was.”  Derek adds.

”and then Klaus happened and in a way it opened both our eyes but… But I can’t help but feel like it put us in a box; it rushed us, rushed everything. It made us skip so much, forced us to skip so much.”

“So what now?”

“I want to be with you on our terms, with our pace. Unhinged by anything else. Somewhere new, away from Beacon Hills, because that place is filled with things that keep us stuck to the past. I understand if you don’t want to come with me; you’re the alpha and you have responsibilities I do not have, however I need this Derek.”

“Won’t you miss it? The town? Everyone? Your father? Them?”

“Ohh yes, I’ll miss them. A-lot. But when you move on you have to let go of some things, if Klaus didn’t happen, we would have still drifted away, and maybe the two of would have gotten closer, slower probably, but definitely closer. So let’s do that, I don’t want to pretend what happened with Klaus didn’t happen, but I am definitely not going to keep living in its shadow.”

“We can’t restart what we have though.”

“Well I have an idea of how good the result is if I go back three years,” Stiles smiles. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m going to move on Derek, and I would like you to be a part of my life.”

*

It’s only after six months that Stiles, now living in Berkeley, opens the door to find Derek standing there. He’s a little drunk and there is Colin and Miguel making out upstairs and Lydia is _singing_.

“Derek?!” Stiles does that thing when he is speechless and his mouth opens and closes a couple of times.

“What are-“He starts, but is cut off by a warm body pressed against his own.

“Do I have to start pinning you against lockers again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the very ending of the story.  
> I themes of 'An anchor I can hold onto.' for me are trust and the value of friendship.  
> The themes I associate with this small sequel are moving on and being strong enough to actually let go of what is holding you back.


End file.
